


Under the Sea

by impalagirl, wilddragonflying



Series: Roleplays [42]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Little Mermaid AU, M/M, Pining, Stiles is a Disney Princess, tbh i think those tags should tell you everything about this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 19:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7586680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalagirl/pseuds/impalagirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Name your price."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Jennifer catches the movement, and she laughs. "I don't want any of your plundered treasures," she says, smirking. "I want something a bit more... valuable." </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Stiles swallows hard. "Like what?"</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>"Well, for a prince who spends words like endless coin, I'd say a suitable price would be... your voice."<i></i></i></p><p> </p><p><i>Stiles' jaw drops. "</i>What?<i>"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Such an obvious title, lol; I'm not even ashamed

"Derek, Derek!" Stiles flicks his tailfin hard and darts through the water to Derek's side, effectively scattering the school of young guppies surrounding him; they regroup again a few feet away, closer together than before, looking spooked and uncertain. "Sorry, guys, I didn't mean to freak you out, but I really need to borrow Derek, it's really important."

Derek rolls his eyes, turning back to his class. "We were done anyway for today, class. Stay with Mary, and she'll take you back to your parents." He nods towards the nurse shark who's been following them around, and she swims in closer to round up the guppies as Derek turns back to the young prince, his own tail working gently to keep him in place in the slight current. "What is it this time, Stiles?" 

"It's important," Stiles repeats, his eyes wide and earnest. " _Royal business_."

Derek's expression turns unimpressed. "If it's 'royal business,' then why aren't you seeking out my mother, or your stepmother?" Talia, as general of Beacon's forces, is also the king's left hand; his wife, Melissa, is his right hand and his advisor. 

"Because," Stiles says, with a beguiling smile, "it's not _king_ business, it's _prince_ business, and I want _you_."

Derek makes himself ignore the way his heart stuttered in his chest. "Fine," he sighs, giving in. "Lead on; I'm assuming you don't want to talk about it in the middle of the palace." 

Stiles laughs. "You know me so well," he says as he begins to swim away. "Scott's waiting for us just outside the gates."

Derek just shakes his head and follows. 

Once they're outside the gates and have collected Scott, Stiles wastes no time in leading them on a merry chase far beyond the palace grounds, and into the depths of the ocean.

"Stiles," Scott begins after long minutes of silence. "Where are we--" He cuts himself off abruptly, however, when a huge, hulking shape begins to loom out of the darkness: a shipwreck.

Derek's pace slows for just a moment before his tail flicks out, hard, and propels him forward to catch Stiles's arm, yanking the younger man to a halt. "Dammit, Stiles, you know what happened last time your father caught you hanging around shipwrecks. Do you _want_ to be cleaning the kelp beds for another month?" 

Stiles flails his arms in the general direction of the wreck. "Derek, look at it! It's so beautiful, I can't just leave it here untouched! What my dad doesn't know won't hurt him - are _you_ gonna tell him?"

"I might," Derek snaps. "You know how many great whites hang out around shipwrecks, Stiles." 

"Well, do you see any now?" Stiles demands. "Come on! Just five minutes to poke around and see what we can find. _Please_ , Derek? I know you're curious, too!"

Derek growls but releases Stiles's arm. "Fine. But if we see any sharks, I'm feeding you to them and saving Scott, your father's position be damned."

Stiles grins triumphantly. "Love you too, Der! Come on, hurry up." He takes off without another word, swimming eagerly toward the row of portholes in the side of the ship.

Derek and Scott exchange fond glances behind Stiles's back before they take off after their friend, following him through one of the broken portholes that's a bit wider than the others. This must be a recent wreck; as they enter the dim interior, Derek can actually see a couple of human skeletons. Usually the fish pick them clean quickly, and the sea and other, smaller animals finish off the bones within a year or two of the ship sinking. "Wonder what part of the world this ship is from," Derek murmurs as they make their way through the derelict.

"Let's see if we can find out," Stiles says, already swimming toward what he expects are the captain's quarters. "Maybe there's a map or some writing. Scott - go out and see if you can see the name of the ship."

Scott heaves a put-upon sigh, but he's grinning as he swerves and swims back out of the porthole.

Derek follows Stiles, helping tug the wedged-and-water-swollen door out of its place. The place is indeed the captain's quarters, but Derek doesn't hold out any hope for any legible maps or writing. The human invention that Deaton calls 'paper' tends not to handle being submerged for long periods of time well. He grabs a nearby piece of metal that he thinks used to be part of either a sword, or maybe what Deaton had called a 'rifle', but what matters is it's fairly long, nice and solid, and heavy. Derek puts all the force he can behind it, and the already rust-compromised lock breaks easily, allowing Derek access to the chest it guarded. There are a few books there that Derek carefully lifts out and lays on the nearby shelf to be tucked into Stiles's bag to be taken to Deaton, as well as some gold and silver, metals that humans apparently value a lot; Derek's never seen the appeal, besides both metals being shiny.

"Here," Derek says, beckoning Stiles over. "I think this might be a map, but it's really big." He gestures to the roll of something heavier and slightly less flexible than paper, yet has managed to escape being picked apart by the various sea creatures that usually inhabit shipwrecks.

Stiles swims over to grab one end of the roll, and together they bring it over to the captain's desk to roll it out. "Oh my god," he breathes. It's definitely not a map, but rather, a picture - of two humans, a man and a woman, sprawled together in an embrace that hides nothing. "Oh my _god_ , Derek, they're... gorgeous."

Something about the pose looks familiar, and Derek's face goes warm in the cool water as he realizes why. "I'm pretty sure they're also in the act of mating," he says, voice slightly strangled. 

Stiles laughs softly. "Yeah, I got that," he says, reaching out to trail a finger over the curve of the woman's breast, and then down, toward the space between her legs - and then the lack of space between the man's. "Gorgeous."

Derek nearly chokes on a cough. "Sure," he says, quickly turning away from where Stiles is all but _fondling_ the painting, just in time to catch a dart of gold. "Scott?" he says, moving to the entrance of the captain's quarters. "Scott?" 

There's a moment of complete stillness, and then Scott slams into Derek, tumbling them both back into the captain's quarters. "We have to get out of here!" he hisses, low and urgent. "Sharks!"

Stiles spins, one hand still on the painting. " _What?_ "

Derek swears under his breath. "Grab those books on the shelf, put them in your bag, Stiles," he orders. "We need to get the hell out of here, now." 

Stiles doesn't hesitate to do as he's told, stuffing the books into his bag before following Derek and Scott toward the porthole. But just before they reach it, there's an earsplitting crash, and a huge shark comes smashing through the side of the ship.

"Go!" Derek orders, shoving Scott and Stiles in a perpendicular direction, grabbing a stiff piece of board and jamming it across the hallway before he follows. 

They swim frantically along the ship's outer corridor, searching for a way out, but when they reach the end they find they have two options: attempt to force another porthole, or swim further into the belly of the ship. Stiles hesitates, listening desperately to the wild thrashing of the shark that seems to be getting closer. "If we go in there, that shark might bring the whole thing down on us," he says as he swims over to the nearest porthole. "Scott, help me."

While they work on trying to force the porthole open, Derek grabs a loose piece of metal - judging by the handle, it was a sword - and stands guard, listening for the shark's approach. Being the son of the general, Derek had received plenty of instruction in fighting, and he's prepared to use all of it. "How's it going back there?" 

"Almost got it," Stiles grunts. "Just a little more..."

"Where's the shark?" Scott calls.

"Getting closer," Derek answers, grip on his sword tightening. He'd prefer a spear, but he can deal with a sword. "Putting that summer training to use right about now would be good." 

"Just a second... Ah!" Stiles cries out as the porthole finally gives way, and then moves back so that Scott can swim through. "Derek! Come on!"

"You first," Derek snaps. "Go, I'll catch up!" He can see flashes of grey and white through the broken and rotted boards now, and he lets himself drift just a bit closer to the open porthole. 

"Right behind me!" Stiles insists. "That's a royal order!" And then he darts through the porthole after Scott.

Derek hesitates just a moment to give Stiles time to get clear, then he's following; it's a tight squeeze to get his shoulders through, but he manages, and the three of them don't stop until they're well away from the wreck. "Poseidon's balls, remind me to never let you out of the palace again. Ever." 

"I'm so sorry," Stiles says, and he's completely sincere. "I didn't mean to put either of you in any danger. It just-- I'm so _fascinated_ by them!"

"But one time I won't be there, or Scott won't spot the shark in time, or - gods forbid - you decide to go off _by yourself_ and you don't keep a good ear out," Derek snaps. 

"I'll be more careful in the future, I promise," Stiles swears. "And I'll never go alone. You're not going to tell my dad, are you?"

Derek wants to, badly, if only to drive his point home even further - but he sighs. "Not this time." 

"Thank you," Stiles says. "It won't happen again, I swear."

Derek shakes his head. "Come on; let's get this stuff to Deaton." 

* * *

The only problem with visiting Deaton, in Derek's opinion, is that Deaton just so happens to be a bird.

A raven, to be precise. And as a bird with no gills whatsoever, Deaton cannot come visit them. Which means that Derek has to escort Scott and Stiles to the surface. Luckily, Deaton inhabits a bit of the ocean that rarely sees any ships, but still. Derek doesn't much care for the surface, not after Cora got snagged in a fisherman's net and had to be rescued.

Derek makes the two younger mermen wait below the surface while he scouts ahead a bit, but the ocean is calm and flat for leagues around, with not a ship in sight. So he gives the okay, and the three of them set off for Deaton's tiny island, and the cove on the southern side. It's only when they're safely out of sight that they dare breach the surface. "Deaton?" Derek calls, scanning the slightly-dimmer cove. "You here?"

"Of course I'm here," comes the answer from above them as Deaton swoops in to perch on a nearby root. "Have you brought new things?"

Stiles obediently produces his bag, and tumbles the books and a few other odds and ends out onto the land. "We found a painting, too, of a man and a woman, um, mating." He glances at Derek and then away again. "But we couldn't bring it with us."

Deaton squawks in indignation at Stiles's rough treatment of the books, feathers bristling. "Careful," he hisses before hopping closer. "These books need to be treated gently!" He busies himself for a moment carefully maneuvering the books into a better position, further from the water and into the sunlight to begin drying. "I don't care about some painting," he says finally. "Humans are disgusting when they mate. Messy." 

Stiles looks surprised. "I thought they looked beautiful," he says, and Scott snorts and nudges him. "Shut up! They did - didn't they, Derek?"

"They were... aesthetically pleasing," Derek hedges. Deaton lets out an amused noise, and Derek glares at the bird.

"I'm more interested in the books," Deaton says, returning his attention to the other two. "But let's take a look at what else you've brought me."

Stiles leans over to peruse his treasures, and produces first a shiny silver-coloured utensil with four prongs at one end. It looks a bit like his dad's trident, but it's tiny by comparison and wouldn't make a good weapon, unless... "Are some humans really tiny?" he asks, squinting at the object.

Deaton lets out a derisive caw. "Only the hatchlings," he says, hopping over to study the utensil shown. "This is a fork - some humans use it for eating, and some use it for their feathers - hair. They don't have water to keep their hair neat, so they have to keep preening."

Scott pulls a face. "Surely they don't use the same fork for both?"

Deaton shrugs, feathers rustling as they resettle. "One would assume so, but humans aren't terribly bright, not like ravens or merfolk," he says, his opinion of the human race clear in his tone of voice. "What else did you bring?"

"Um, this?" Stiles holds out a utensil that's similar to the fork, except that it's rounded where the fork had prongs. "We found it near to the fork," he offers helpfully.

"This is a spoon," Deaton says with authority. "Humans use this one only for eating. I've seen them use it for a variety of foods, but mostly for soups and some desserts."

"Cool," Stiles says, grinning. "And this?"

The object brought forth is a little bit bigger than Stiles's hand, with a bowl on one end and what looks like a narrow, hollow branch curving away from it. Deaton picks the object up by the branch, knocking it against the ground a few times to help clear it, and then he eyes it speculatively. "This," he says after a moment, "is a pipe. Humans use it for music, and as a way to establish dominance over each other. Here, Derek, hold it. You see the bowl? Humans will stuff leaves in there and then light them on fire, blowing the smoke in each other's faces in a show of intimidation. When the hierarchy has been established, then they empty the bowls, clean the pipe, and use it for music."

Stiles giggles. "Humans are so weird," he says. "Is smoke really so intimidating?"

"It interrupts their breathing," Deaton says. "It's hard to interrupt your breathing, since you breathe both water and air, but humans only breathe air, and it's very easy to disrupt. If they breathe the smoke in, it can make them cough violently." He imitates the coughing noise, and it does not sound pleasant in the least.

Stiles shares a look with Derek and Scott. "That's awful," he says. "Are humans always so harsh with each other?" He's thinking again of the painting, and how he'd seen nothing of the barbarism his father always talks about in the way the depicted lovers were touching each other.

"Most times, yes," Deaton says, oblivious to Stiles's thoughts as his attention is caught by a bit of decorative shine on the pipe. "The females are considered the gentlest, but even they are fierce."

Stiles nods, and it looks like he's going to say something else before Scott interrupts. "Thanks, Deaton. I think we'd better be getting back to the palace now."

Derek nods, checking the position of the sun; they have time, but they won't if they don't leave soon. "Scott's right; thank you, Deaton. Will you dry out the books for us?"

Deaton agrees, and as the three friends set off toward home, Stiles can't help but wonder if Deaton was right - and if humans really are as bad as his father thinks.

* * *

They've barely entered the palace grounds before all three of them are being herded towards the throne room; Derek winces when he catches sight of not only King Stilinski - known to many as King Triton, for the trident he wields - but also the queen and his own mother. 

"Well," the king says, the twitching of his tailfin the only sign of his anger. "Would any of you care to explain yourselves?" 

"My king," Derek starts, only to be interrupted by Stiles. 

"It was all my idea," he insists. "Derek and Scott only came because I made them."

"I can believe you bullying Scott into following you, but not Derek," Stilinski says, looking pointedly at the man in question.

Derek swallows, a flick of his tail pushing him forward, in front of the teenagers. "I went to provide at least some protection," he says, which is the truth. He can see the fond, yet knowing look on both his mother and the queen's faces, and he hopes they won't say anything. "I knew I wouldn't be able to dissuade Stiles from going."

"Because I'm a stubborn asshat," Stiles agrees, drifting to Derek's side. "They shouldn't be punished for trying to keep me safe."

The king sighs, glancing to his wife and general; they seem to carry one a silent conversation, and eventually the king says, "Very well. They won't be punished, and _you_ will be required to sit through three full formal dinners without ducking out early."

Stiles winces, hangs his head. "Yes, Father."

Stilinski nods, satisfied. "And you, two - but especially you, Derek," he adds, "the next time he insists on dragging you out to investigate a shipwreck, at least let someone know where you're going. You of all people should know better, Derek."

Derek winces, but nods, chastised. "Yes, my lord."

* * *

Derek stays behind to talk to his mother, but Stiles doesn't want to spend a single moment more in the palace than he has to, so he and Scott take off as soon as the king gives them permission to leave. They don't go far, just to a little cave on the outskirts of the palace, but Stiles doesn't relax until he gets there - until he's surrounded by all of the things he's collected from the human world.

"I just don't understand what they're so afraid of," he says as he swims over to the goblets he has lined up on an irregularity in the cave wall that's serving as a shelf. "Humans don't even know we exist - how can my dad and Derek and the others know they're dangerous?"

"Your dad's seen their ships fight," Scott points out, shooing a crab from one of the wooden pieces. "And so has Derek's mom. And they've had to rescue more than one merperson from the humans' nets. Remember when they had to rescue Erica? Talia and Laura almost died, and Laura's still got the scars."

"We fight too!" Stiles cries. "And we all have to eat. What happened to Erica and Cora is horrible, of course, but the humans weren't aiming for them! Look at all this stuff, Scott." He swims over to the other side of the cave. "They love and they laugh and they play music, just like us. The only difference is that they have legs!"

Scott sighs. "I know you're fascinated, Stiles, and I don't think they're as bad as your father thinks, but they are still very dangerous. We can't communicate with them, Stiles. If we can't talk, we can't make them understand that we don't want to fight. And you've heard what Deaton's said - if the humans don't understand something, they destroy it." 

"That's why I've been so careful up to now," Stiles says. "I don't want to make friends with the humans, I just want to learn about them. In an ideal world, I'd _be_ one of them."

Scott drops the trinket he'd been repositioning. " _What_?"

Stiles swoops down and catches it before it can hit the floor. "Don't look at me like that," he complains. "I obviously _can't_ be. I just think it'd be better than this."

"Better than what?" Scott asks, slightly hurt and more than a little worried. 

"Being a merman!" Stiles cries. "Humans, they get to walk, they get to run, they get to feel the sun on their skin and the wind in their hair, they get to _dance!_ What do we get, Scott?"

"Magic, for one thing," Scott answers. "Deaton says the humans have hunted witches and other magical creatures almost to extinction. We get the ocean to ourselves, and we hardly ever fight with any of _our_ species except the occasional school of ferals or civil war, which hasn't happened in centuries." 

Anything Stiles could be about to say in return is lost as something ripples through the water, a deep and distant _boom_ that rattles some of the trinkets and makes Stiles look up, his eyes wide. "Did you hear that? What's happening?" And then he's off, darting out of the cave and heading straight for the surface.

"Stiles! _Stiles!_ " Scott is left with no choice but to follow when Stiles doesn't answer or slow down. "Your father is going to have our heads," he mutter to himself before putting on a burst of speed.

"He won't find out, I promise," Stiles swears, just before they break the surface. "I just want to see - _woah_."

Even Scott has to admit that the sight before them is impressive; Scott's only ever seen shipwrecks, seen the ghost of the elegance and power that the humans are capable of building, but this living creation, full of noise and light, is almost beyond description. It's huge, almost as large as the whales that sometimes pass through Beacon as they migrate, the wood curving gracefully away from the water as lights erupt from what Scott remembers is called the 'deck' - the upper flooring, the place where the humans walk and move ropes around. Above the water, the sounds are even louder; as the lights crest and explode, they send a concussive wave of sound through the air that almost feels like someone knocked Scott sideways.

Scott's too busy being overwhelmed by the ship to notice Stiles swimming away at first, but as soon as he realizes what the prince is up to, he's swearing and trying to catch up. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Scott hisses, managing to grab Stiles before the other merman can think of doing something even stupider - like attempting to climb the side of the ship. "We need to get out of here, Stiles!"

"Just let me get a little closer," Stiles murmurs, pulling out of Scott's grip. "I just wanna see..."

" _Stiles!_ Scott growls, but it's too late; Stiles has managed to find some ridges of wood sticking out from the side of the boat, and is already half way up it. "Stiles, you moron, get your fishy ass down here!"

But Stiles just flicks his tail at Scott in derision and continues his ascent, until he can hang on to the edge of the ship and peer between the railings at-- "Oh my god," he breathes. Dancing before him is the most stunning creature he's ever seen, both on land and beneath the waves. She's barefoot and beautiful, her red hair flowing out behind her as she coaxes an older male to join her.

The older male gives a sigh, but complies, sweeping the young woman into an energetic dance. As they drift closer to Stiles, he says, "You know, you might have been a bit more diplomatic in your rejection of Prince Aiden, Princess Lydia."

"Perhaps," Lydia agrees, but she doesn't sound remorseful at all. "But he offended me. I didn't see the need to mince my words."

"Your parents wish for you to marry," Chris reminds her as he guides her through a spin. "They wish to secure the future of the blood, though they know you are a capable leader."

"All in good time, Chris," Lydia coos. "I'll marry when I'm ready - and when they find me better suitors than Prince Aiden."

Chris sighs. "Prince Aiden was not a suitable suitor," he concedes. "Very well. I'll ask your parents to allow me to vet potential suitors _before_ they send you haring off across the ocean. It's not safe out here, you know - you remember my sister's journey just last year, where they were attacked by vicious creatures that were half man, half fish."

Stiles gasps at that and almost loses his hold on the side of the ship, and Lydia tilts her head to the side, as though listening. "Did you hear..?" she asks, but trails off. "Never mind. I've heard the stories, Chris, but I don't believe a word of them. I wouldn't protest, though, if you were to consider my suitors before they were brought to my attention in the future."

"Of course, my lady," Chris says with an inclined head. "Now, our dance is almost over, and you need to mingle just a little bit more." 

Lydia laughs and tosses her head. "Very well," she says. "Just a minute more, and then I'll play the part of your dutiful princess."

* * *

Scott doesn't manage to get Stiles down from his perch until it actually starts storming. But as soon as they retreated below the waves, there was another concussive sound, as though the humans had sent off more of those exploding lights; when Scott and Stiles looked up, however, the light from above was strange. Scott was the first to recognize it. "Fire!" 

Stiles takes one look at the queer golden glow above the waves and sees that Scott is right. "The ship!" he cries, swimming hard toward the surface. "If it goes down they'll die!"

"Stiles!" Scott yells, following his friend. "It's not our job to save them! _Stiles!_ "

But Stiles doesn't hear him, because he's already broken the surface of the water - and what he sees is devastating. The ship is burning, and parts of it are falling into the water, making the waves heave dangerously. Stiles hesitates, because honestly, he's never seen anything like this, and he has no idea how to help. But then he sees it, a little boat being lowered off the side of the ship with people inside and more still jumping into it - and there's another, and another. If everyone on the ship can get into these little boats and row to shore, they'll be safe.

Scott surfaces a heartbeat later, and Stiles grabs his arm. "Scott, look! We don't have to save them; they're gonna be okay!"

Just as Stiles finishes speaking, there's an earsplitting scream, coming a split second before the loudest explosion yet; sparks and timbers fly from the ship, and Scott watches in horror as it starts to sink below the waves. He spots movement from the corner of his eye, and shoves Stiles forward. "Someone just fell off!"

Stiles spots the figure a second later, and sees a flash of red hair before she's lost beneath the waves. "It's the princess!" he cries. And then he's off.

Stiles has always been the faster swimmer, so Scott leaves him to it while he circles the sinking ship, watching for any more humans that may need assistance to the littler boats; it may not be their place to save the humans, but Scott's not a cold-hearted bastard. He spots another man floating in the water, barely conscious and clinging to a board; his curls are soaked, plastered to his forehead, and when he looks at Scott it's through dull blue eyes. "Crap," Scott mutters, helping the human off of the board. "Okay, hang on, the little boat is just around the other side of the ship, I'll get you over there."

Stiles, meanwhile, has plunged back beneath the waves to chase after the princess as she begins to sink toward the ocean floor. It's clear that she's been knocked unconscious by the fall, and Stiles wastes absolutely no time in grabbing her beneath the arms and dragging her back toward the surface, his tail beating harder than it's ever beat before. As soon as they break the surface, Stiles starts talking.

"It's okay, you're gonna be okay, just stay with me, alright? Just keep breathing, don't die on me, please, you're gonna be okay. You have to find a gorgeous prince to marry so that you can secure the future of your kingdom, and you have to laugh and dance and sing, okay, you have to stay with me, just--" There's a little boat bobbing in the water not too far away, all its passengers looking on with horror as their ship burns, and Stiles circles around behind it before beginning his approach. "You're gonna be okay, we're almost there, I've got you, Lydia, you're gonna be fine." He shuts up as he nears the boat, and as soon as he's close enough, he hefts his princess over the side of it, making the small vessel buck beneath her weight. Stiles is back beneath the surface a moment later, and he lingers just long enough to hear a familiar voice asking, "Lydia?", before he swims away in search of Scott.

Scott has already delivered his own rescue, and is waiting anxiously outside of the light from the burning ship. "Stiles!" he cries, relieved. "Oh thank Poseidon, you're okay. Did you get her?"

"She's safe," Stiles says. "Did you see any others?"

"There was one other, a boy, and I managed to get him to one of the boats. I think he'll be okay. What about you, do you see any more?"

"No," Stiles says. He hesitates, his gaze on the rippling water above them. "I guess we should go."

"We should," Scott agrees, just as the last of the ship sinks below the waves, leaving nothing but scattered debris and three tiny boats behind. 

* * *

Two days later, and Stiles still can't shut up about it. He and Scott are hiding out in their cave, but Stiles is all but blind to the treasures around him. "She was just so beautiful, Scott!" he sighs. "The way she moved, the way she talked, the sound of her laugh... And her hair! It was almost as red as my tail, she was _gorgeous_! I think I'm in love."

Scott rolls his eyes, and catches sight of Derek hovering in the entrance to the cave, his expression pinched. "Oh, hey Derek," he says, purposely louder than necessary. 

"Hey, Scott," Derek says. "Stiles. Who're you mooning over?"

Stiles spins to face Derek, who can practically see the hearts in his eyes. "A _princess_."

Derek's heart twists painfully, but he makes himself ignore it. "What? There haven't been any envoys from any of the other kingdoms - where the hell did you meet a princess?"

"She's not a mermaid!" Stiles cries. "She's a human!"

"A _human_?" Derek says, and his expression drops into something that says that Stiles better not even think about lying or ducking this conversation. "Where, in the name of every deity that exists, did you meet a _human._ "

"There was a ship, and a storm, and she nearly died. I saved her."

"And why the hell were you on the surface to begin with? I've half a mind to go tell the queen and king on you both!"

"No!" Stiles cries. "It wasn't Scott's fault, we were near the surface because _I_ wanted to be!"

"Not even a full day after you just got in trouble for going near a shipwreck? Do you _want_ to get captured and killed?" Derek demands hotly. 

"I was careful!"

"And one day that won't matter!" Derek snaps. "Damn it, Stiles, there's a _reason_ for why the humans are usually considered off-limits."

"I can make my own decisions, Derek. You're not the boss of me; you're supposed to be my friend."

"I am your friend," Derek says, sighing. "Which is why I'm so concerned about this, Stiles."

Stiles' mouth twists down at the corners. "Well, it's not like I'm ever gonna see her again, so."

"It's not just her, Stiles," Derek says, trying to get his point across. "It's the constant hanging around shipwrecks, and trips to the surface, and this fascination with creatures that have proven themselves to be extremely dangerous. I understand why your father's worried about this."

Stiles sighs. "I'll be more careful in the future, I swear."

Derek sighs. "You say that every time."

"I know," Stiles says. "I know. But I mean it this time. I don't think I can keep poking my nose into their world, not after this."

Derek eyes the young prince speculatively; could he truly mean it? After a moment's consideration, Derek decides that, whether Stiles means it or not, he'll take it. "Good. There's plenty down here to keep you occupied, and all of your friends are down here, too," he says with a smile, drifting forward to lay a reassuring hand on Stiles's shoulder, squeezing gently. 

Stiles nods and tries to smile back. "I know," he says. "Thanks."

* * *

And it seems like Stiles really has turned over a new leaf as far as humans go; he even gets his father's permission to explore another shipwreck instead of just dragging Derek and Scott along. They still go, of course, because there's safety in numbers, and when they've finished exploring they head for the surface. They've got a few more books for Deaton, who is very pleased to see the books, though he casts Stiles and Scott a speculative glance. "You know," he says as he spreads the books out, "I've been hearing stories from the kingdom that borders yours. The human one. Particularly stories about a recent shipwreck."

Stiles flushes a deep red and glances at Derek. "Oh? What kind of stories?"

"Stories of a miraculous rescue after lightning struck the ship and set it on fire," Deaton answers, now fixing Stiles with a sharp gaze while Derek's turns into a glare. "One boy, and the princess. The boy says he was thrown from the ship, away from the lifeboats, and was carried by a creature that was half-man, half-fish. The princess was unconscious for her rescue, but several humans claim that they heard her scream, and then she suddenly appeared in their boat, drenched in sea water but unharmed."

"Fancy that," Stiles says, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. "I don't know anything about it, though."

Derek's expression belies his disbelief, and even Deaton snorts. "Of course you wouldn't," he says. "I find it hard to believe that anyone would be so foolhardy as to voluntarily get that close to humans." 

"Exactly," Stiles says. "It's safer if everyone sticks to their own kind."

"Hmm. Just make sure you remember that," Deaton says. Derek's expression echoes the sentiment. 

* * *

Derek avoids Stiles for a few days after that (which, in retrospect, was probably a bad idea), and it's not until Talia all but kicks him out of the palace that Derek seeks out Stiles's company again. He finds the princes in their cave, and he's just in time to hear Scott exclaim, "You're not going to see _her?_ " 

Derek's frowning as he rounds the corner. "Going to see who?" 

Stiles nearly jumps out of his scales and sends several trinkets tumbling to the cave floor in the process. "None of your business," he huffs as he swoops down to retrieve them. "This is a private conversation."

"Stiles, this isn't about this princess you saved, is it?" Derek had put the pieces together himself, and knew that Scott and Stiles had been responsible for the 'miraculous' rescues. "Please tell me you're not going to do something rash." 

"Not rash," Stiles says, defensive. "I've thought it through!"

" _Stiles,_ " Derek growls, a warning and a demand. 

"Alright!" Stiles cries, throwing his hands up in the air. "I wanna go see Jennifer, y'know, the sea witch."

Silence. Then, " _Why?_ " 

"Because I want to be human."

"You want to do _what_?" Derek demands. " _Why?_ "

"Because it's just _better_ , Derek!" Stiles insists. "I'm not happy like this. I want to walk, I want to run. And I want to see Lydia again."

"Oh, so the seaweed is greener up there, huh?" Derek bites out. 

"Yeah," Stiles snaps. "Maybe it is!"

Derek had never before wanted to actually hit Stiles, but now he found himself seriously considering delivering a slap, if only in the name of attempting to restore sense to the younger man. He restrained himself, though, by clenching his hands into fists by his side as he turned to Scott. "And what do you think of this plan?" 

Scott hesitates. "I think," he says carefully, "that if it's what Stiles really wants, we should support him."

"You can't be serious," Derek says, mouth agape. "You're actually encouraging this?" 

Scott shrugs. "You think it'd stop him if I said anything different?"

Scott has him there, and they all know it. "Fine. But you're not going alone," Derek says, directing this last bit at Stiles. "I don't suppose you were planning on telling your father any of this, were you?" 

"No," Stiles admits. "He'd only try to stop me, and I'd rather not upset him until it's already a done deal. Jennifer might not even agree."

Well, there was always that. "Very well. I'll go with you." 

Stiles looks like he wants to argue, but he nods. "Okay," he says. "As long as you don't interfere."

Well, that isn't exactly a promise Derek can make, but he nods nonetheless. 

* * *

They go that evening, after dinner. Scott stays behind to help cover for their absence, and Derek helps Stiles pick out some items to offer in exchange for whatever service the witch might be able to provide. 

It doesn't take long to find the cave of the sea witch; while the witch has always been an outcast, there has always been a witch for as long as there has been a Beacon, and she has always been in the same cave. The entrance is the skeleton of a sea drake, whose bones are protected by a spell to prevent their degradation. As Stiles and Derek approach the entrance, they can make out the strange withered creatures that litter the seafloor around the cave; the consequence of breaking a deal with the witch, or failing to meet her terms. Derek makes Stiles stop just outside the mouth of the cave. "Are you sure?" he asks, gesturing to the creatures who are watching them through beady eyes. 

It takes Stiles a moment to tear his gaze away from the creatures, but when he does, his eyes are steely with his resolve. "I'm sure."

Derek sighs. "All right; let's go then." 

They swim cautiously through the entrance to the cave, and it's dark and creepy and Stiles has half a mind to turn back, convinced that nobody's home. But then he sees something scuttle across his peripheral vision, and suddenly there she is, looming out of the dark to consider the both of them with a calculating smile. It's all Stiles can do not to reach out and grasp Derek's hand; instead, he fists both his hands and braces himself. "Are you Jennifer? The-- the sea witch?"

"I am," the witch replies, her smile sharpening as her tentacles curl in the water. "It's been quite a long time since any sea witch has had royalty to visit. Or are you here to deal?"

"Deal," Stiles says, no hesitation. "I want to make a deal."

Jennifer's grin widens. "Then come; we may speak inside." She turns, clearly expecting them to follow, and leads the way further into the cave. 

They do as they're bid, and Stiles sways a little closer to Derek once they're as deep as Jennifer seems to want them to go. "So," he says awkwardly. "I was wondering if you could-- if it's even possible..." He takes a breath and tries again. "I want legs."

"Legs?" Jennifer asks with a raised eyebrow. "Legs from where?" 

"Thin air?" Stiles asks hopefully. "I want to be human."

Jennifer laughs. "I can't make you human, little prince," she says. "Your blood will always show through. If that's what you desire, then you may as well leave; you'll find no way to make you _human_."

Stiles deflates, and looks at Derek. "Okay," he says. "Worth a shot."

And while Derek would like nothing better than to take Stiles and get the hell out of there, he finds himself asking, "Can you make him appear human?"

Jennifer's grin goes predatory. "That, I can do."

Stiles can't help the swoop of hope in his stomach, but he has to be smart about this. "Would I be able to function as a human? On land?"

"You would," Jennifer says - and she is bound to speak the truth. She can twist and omit, but she cannot lie. "To all intents and purposes, you would look like and function as human. But I trust you realize there would be a cost?" 

"Of course," Stiles says, his grip on his bag of trinkets tightening. "Name your price."

Jennifer catches the movement, and she laughs. "I don't want any of your plundered treasures," she says, smirking. "I want something a bit more... valuable." 

Stiles swallows hard. "Like what?"

"Well, for a prince who spends words like endless coin, I'd say a suitable price would be... your voice."

Stiles' jaw drops. " _What?_ "

"You heard me," Jennifer smirks. "If you want a pair of legs instead of a tail, I want your voice in return." 

"I-- I don't know," Stiles says. "I'd barely be able to communicate, and I want to be human so I can, y'know, make friends with people."

"Humans aren't exactly known for their friendliness, little fish," Jennifer laughs. "And I've seen and heard of your antics; if nothing else, the humans will surely find you amusing even without a voice. Perhaps even especially without a voice." 

"He won't know the culture," Derek interrupts. "And he won't be able to make himself understood; it sounds to me like you're purposely setting him up to fail whatever conditions you may set up for the deal." 

Jennifer goes still, then, and glares at Derek through narrowed eyes. "Are you suggesting that I am being unfair?" 

Derek draws himself up and matches her glare with one of his own. "Yes, I am." 

Stiles grabs Derek's wrist and pulls him back a little. "Maybe you could send someone with me. Someone who can help, as part of my deal."

Derek doesn't take his eyes off of Jennifer as she considers the proposal for several long moments; finally, she nods. "Very well," she says. "I have an old amulet I can give enough power to to temporarily give someone else legs - at a small price; magic isn't free. Choose who your companion will be."

Stiles looks at Derek, considering. Derek is smart, strong, and he would be a useful ally to have in a world where he couldn't communicate. But he's also responsible, and he has such a strong sense of what's right and what's wrong. They've come this far, but Stiles isn't so sure that Derek will help him take it further. "Maybe Scott?"

Derek's jaw clenched slightly. "Scott? As in the other prince - and the one who is easily distracted by a passing jellyfish?" From the corner of his eye, he can see Jennifer fussing with what looks like a glass ball, but he can't tell what she's doing, just that, judging by the growing smirk on her face, he doesn't like it. 

"Well, I'm hardly gonna ask you," Stiles says. "You hate this, you think it's dumb. Scott at least is supportive."

"No, I think this is you putting yourself in unnecessary danger, and I hate that," Derek corrects. "Who the hell else would you ask? Laura? Erica? Boyd?" 

"Maybe," Stiles says, searching Derek's face. " _Would_ you go with me?"

" _If_ you asked me to, then yes, I would," Derek says. "You know I'll always protect you." 

There's something in Derek's face that Stiles doesn't understand. He turns back to Jennifer. "Can I think about it?"

Jennifer raises one eyebrow. "Think about it?" 

"Well, it's a big decision," Stiles snipes.

"One you should have thought about before you came to me," Jennifer points out. "I'm usually people's last resort. What do you need to think about?" 

"The best choice, obviously," Stiles says. "I can't just know who's the best person right off the bat."

Jennifer hums thoughtfully. "You've got a protector right here," she says. "Quite the capable one, I'd say." There's something in her expression that makes Derek uneasy as she gestures to him. He and Stiles share a look that's broken by her announcing, "Take him." 

"I-- I can't ask him to do that," Stiles stammers. "What he'd be giving up--"

Jennifer's grin takes on a decidedly evil gleam. "Oh, I would get _personal satisfaction_ out of sending him up top with you, forcing him to work and live so closely together with the crown prince he's sworn to protect. That would be the price - he wouldn't have to give up anything else." She nods, like that decides the matter. "So. You, the crown prince of Beacon, and Derek Hale, son of the general. That's my offer." 

Stiles looks at Derek. "What do you think?"

Derek hesitates. "Would you want the spell to be permanent?" he asks Stiles. 

"I-- maybe," Stiles says, hesitant. "Lydia--"

Derek sees Jennifer's expression light up, and he wishes Stiles would have kept his mouth shut. "Well," Jennifer purrs. "If you're looking for a permanent spell, that's a different kettle of kelp." 

"How different?" Derek asks, almost dreading the answer. 

"Your part of this wouldn't change - you don't want a permanent set of legs. But Stiles's part, well, that adds another layer to the deal."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asks warily.

"Well, then we'd be talking about a loan for say, one full lunar cycle, while you attempt to gather the price for a permanent spell. Your voice would be the collateral, and there would be... interest to pay if you don't meet the price."

"And what would the price be?" Derek asks, suspicious.

"True love's kiss."

"A kiss?" Stiles asks. "I just have to get Lydia to kiss me?"

"You just need to get true love's kiss," Jennifer repeats. "But, I am obliged to warn you: failure to make payment results in you joining my little garden." 

Stiles glances back toward the mouth of the cave, an involuntary shudder rocking through him at the thought of those strange creatures. "They used to be merfolk?" he asks, though he already knows the answer.

"Merfolk who couldn't pay the price," Jennifer says with a nod. 

"And how is true love's kiss a price, exactly?" Stiles asks.

"There's very few magics more powerful than True Love," Jennifer says, and Derek can hear the capital letters. "Since you and I will be connected through the temporary spell, I'll be able to capture enough of that magic to pay for a permanent spell and some extra for myself." 

Again, Stiles looks at Derek. "Okay," he says, without looking away. "It's a price I'm willing to pay."

Derek knows it's down to him, just as surely as he knows that he won't deny Stiles the chance to find happiness - even if it's with a human. "And one I am, as well."

"Excellent," Jennifer says delightedly, rubbing her hands together. "We have a deal! Let me draw up a contract for each of you, just to make it official. Business, you know. All of us must be protected." She swims over to a shelf in the cave wall, rummaging about for a moment before she produces two tablets and two styluses. She murmurs under her breath, running a hand over each tablet before handing one to Derek and one to Stiles. "A tablet for each of you, since there's two deals in one, here. Read over them carefully; once you sign, the contract is binding."

Derek takes the one she hands him, doing as she says and reading carefully. _The signature below belongs to Derek Hale, who has agreed to the following terms:_

_In exchange for an amulet imbued with a spell to grant him the body of a human for the time of one lunar cycle in order to assist Crown Prince Stilinski in the pursuit of True Love's Kiss, Derek Hale agrees to allow Jennifer Blake to oversee the events that ensue, though she may not interfere._

Derek reads the rest, his frown deepening as he reads just _why_ Jennifer is being so... generous in allowing him to use the amulet and its spell for so cheap a price; he says nothing, however, taking the stylus the sea witch holds out to him with a smirk on her face, and scrawls his signature across the bottom.

Stiles' own contract is similar, with the added stipulation that he will belong to Jennifer if he fails to make the payment they have agreed upon. He takes a moment to read over it, and another, longer moment to convince himself that this is the right choice, and then he too signs his name.

Both tablets glow a binding gold, and seem to grow heavier in their hands before Jennifer whisks them away. "Good," she says, still grinning. "Oh, this will be fun; I haven't had a chance to use this much magic in _years._ " Once the tablets are stored, she starts bustling about the cave, pulling out ingredients and tossing them towards the center of the floor, where a cauldron waits. Once she has everything she needs, she pulls out a needle made of bone with some symbols etched into it. "A drop of blood from you, first, my prince," she says, holding the needle and one hand out. "Needed to ensure the lower half of your new body will match the top half."

Stiles holds out a hand, his eyes screwed shut and his face turned away, and he hisses in a sharp breath when Jennifer pricks him with the needle. "Now Derek?" he asks.

"Once your spell is ready," she says. "It has to be done quickly, before the blood thins too much." This is a spell she hasn't used in quite some time, but being a sea witch means that Jennifer must remember recipes and spell rituals perfectly, and it's a matter of moments before she has two nautilus shells ready - one, golden and empty, ready to house Stiles's voice, the other a dull, tarnished silver that gives off a feeling of energy, like the moment before lightning strikes. "Step on the silver shell when you reach land," she says, and then holds up the golden shell. "Now, speak; your voice will go in here, to be held until you receive True Love's Kiss."

If these are the last words Stiles will ever speak, he's going to make them count. He turns to Derek, and offers him a soft smile. "Thank you so much for this. Tell my dad I'm sorry."

All Derek can do is watch as the words leave Stiles's lips in a soft white cloud like sand being disturbed before they're drawn to the shell Jennifer holds in her hands. With a satisfied smile, she places the golden shell next to the tablets containing their contracts, and then she turns to Derek. "Now, your turn."

Derek obediently holds out his hand; the prick is sharp, but certainly not the worst thing he's ever felt, and he watches as she enchants a small sand dollar that has been attached to a chain. When she's finished, she hands the necklace and pendant over. "Only wear that above water, and once you activate the spell with a drop of your blood, you cannot turn it off. The spell will last for one full lunar cycle, and I would highly recommend that you both be in the sea if you fail in your quest; otherwise, who knows what the humans will do to a pair of helpless merfolk?"

Derek nods. "I understand. Thank you."

Jennifer grins. "No, Derek; thank you."

* * *

They leave the cave moments later, Stiles pointedly not looking down at Jennifer's 'garden' on their way out, and head straight for the palace. They agreed on their way to see Jennifer that they would need to explain whatever deal was made to Scott, and as Derek is the only one with a voice, it'll have to be him. It's with this in mind that Stiles stalls just outside the palace grounds, and gestures for Derek to go on without him.

Derek gives Stiles's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be back as quickly as possible; stay out of sight," he says, and waits for Stiles to head out before he heads for the palace himself; he finds Scott in a courtyard near the edge of the palace, and after making sure there isn't anyone important around, swims over. "Scott!"

"Derek!" Scott looks relieved for only a second, before his expression turns to one of concern. "Where's Stiles? Is he you-know-what already? Is he _dead?_ "

"He's hiding, and no, and no," Derek says. "She gave him a shell containing the spell to give him the body of a human, but he has to wait until we're on land to break it. She gave me an amulet to do the same; I'll be with him on land as well, now. Her price was Stiles's voice to loan him the spell for one lunar cycle, and if he can get True Love's Kiss before the time is up, the spell will become permanent and she will return his voice."

"True love's kiss?" Scott demands. "How the hell is he going to do that?"

"He thinks it's Lydia," Derek explains. "He thinks if he can get her to fall in love with and kiss him, it'll be true love." 

Scott looks surprised, but he nods. "He just traded his voice for legs because he knew from the first moment he saw her that he wanted to be with her," he says, carefully, almost apologetically. "If that's not true love, I don't know what is."

"That's having a crush," Derek snaps, but then he sighs. "For his sake, I hope it works out; if he doesn't receive true love's kiss, then he joins her garden." 

Scott pales. "It'll work out," he says, without confidence. "What are we going to tell the king?"

"The truth, or close to it, anyway," Derek says. "Stiles is of age, and we both signed the contracts. They're legally binding, and the king can't do anything about it unless the witch breaks her end of the deal - she can't interfere in any way, direct or indirect, to affect the outcome." 

"You want to tell the king that his son is now a human, and there's nothing he can do about it?" Scott asks. "Wait, you're going with him! You want _me_ to tell the king that his son is a human?"

"Of course I'm going with him; you think I was going to let him do this alone?" Derek snaps. "And we've got those enchanted mirrors; we'll be in touch." 

"Well why don't I give the king one of those mirrors so that you can tell him yourself?" Scott snipes, but he deflates pretty quickly. "You're at least coming back, right? Your mom might declare outright war on the humans if you're not."

"If you can stall him long enough for us to reach land and start the spells, then yeah; give him your mirror and I'll talk with him. And yes, I am; whether or not Stiles succeeds in getting true love's kiss, my spell will only last for one lunar cycle, and then I'll go back to being this."

Scott nods. "Okay," he says. "I'll give you enough time to get away, and then I'll talk to the king. If things get messy I'll contact you so you can talk to him and he can at least see Stiles. But you really should be going."

"Thanks, Scott," Derek says with a half-smile. "We'll get going, and I'll take care of him." 

"I know you will," Scott says, and he surges forward to give Derek a fierce hug. "Just look after yourself too, y'know?"

Derek hugs Scott back, and nods. "I'll try; Stiles is always going to be my first priority." And with that, Derek swims off before they're spotted. 

* * *

Derek finds Stiles easily enough, and then they're off, swimming for the surface and following Deaton's directions towards land. It takes longer than they'd thought it would, but eventually they reach the shallows; Derek's never been this far from Beacon, and he knows Stiles hasn't either. "Last chance," he says, eyeing the empty shoreline; he can see a castle in the distance, and he supposes that will be their destination. "You're absolutely sure?" 

Stiles nods vigorously, clutching the silver shell to his chest, and then strikes out for the shore.

Derek follows; when they can go no further, he takes a knife from the harness he wears and makes a small cut on the tip of his thumb, hissing slightly before he presses the bloody digit to the sand dollar around his neck. It seems to pulse, warmth spreading from where it rests on his breastbone down his body until it hits his tail - and then it turns to pain. 

Derek manages to keep his yelp of pain semi-quiet, and grits his teeth as the magic does its thing; when it's over, he's left breathless. "Okay," he finally pants. "Let me find a rock for you to break that with." 

Stiles reaches out, snags Derek's hand, his eyes soft with concern and full of questions.

"It hurts," Derek says, because he's not going to lie to Stiles, "but it's getting better. I'm just going to get you something to smash your shell against; I won't go out of sight." 

Stiles nods and lets Derek go.

Derek straightens up, holding his arms out for balance as he takes a few careful steps forward through the surf, stumbling a bit. These 'legs' might end up being more trouble than they're worth, and Derek cringes to think of perpetually-clumsy Stiles doing this. Just as he thinks maybe this 'walking' thing won't be too difficult to at least begin to master, however, he catches sight of something hanging between his legs; he yelps, certain some parasite has gotten him, and tries to back up, only to trip over his own - whatever the things at the end of his legs are called. He goes down with an almighty splash, thrashing for a few moments before he manages to push himself back up above the water. "What the hell?" he splutters, looking down between his legs. "What the heck is that?" 

When he looks up, horrified, Stiles has a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. After a second he draws his hand away, though, to create a circle with his thumb and forefinger. Still laughing, he takes the forefinger of his other hand and pushes it through the circle.

It takes a moment for Stiles's meaning to sink in, and when it does, Derek feels his face go hot, flushing as red as Stiles's tail. "Right," he mutters, mortified. "I guess humans don't hide that away except with clothes." This time when Derek pushes himself to his feet, he very deliberately does not look at the thing between his legs, instead focusing on walking towards shore, and not tripping. His balance is a bit off - not that he expected anything different - and he takes the opportunity to practice walking a bit more as he searches for a suitable rock. He finds one, then carefully wades back into the surf to hand it to Stiles. "Here you go; that should be sturdy enough to break the shell." 

For the first time since they left Jennifer, Stiles hesitates, but after only a second he lifts the rock and brings it smashing down against the shell. For a moment nothing happens, and then, just like Derek, all he feels is pain. His mouth opens on a soundless cry - but just as quickly as it began, it's over, and Stiles is left gasping, his fingers digging into the wet sand.

Once he's got his breath back, he looks up at Derek, and wonders how the hell he's supposed to stand.

Derek kneels down, reaching out to take Stiles's hand in his. "Here, take it slow," he says gently, helping Stiles up. 

Stiles follows the pull of Derek's hand, straightening his legs out beneath him and testing them to see if they'll support his weight. They do for about five seconds, and then they buckle in the middle and give out, and he falls forward into Derek's arms.

Derek sees the fall coming, and he's widened his stance, bracing himself to catch Stiles. He grunts with the impact, winding his arms around the other's midsection. "Easy," he murmurs. "No rush just yet." 

With all of Derek's wet skin pressed up against his own, Stiles is now painfully aware of his own nakedness, even if he's not ashamed the way he suspects a normal human would be. He pushes away from Derek sharply and tries again, still clutching Derek's hand. His legs don't give way this time, though they do tremble under the new strain, and after a moment it seems natural to try a first step. It's a success.

Derek gives Stiles an encouraging smile. "Let's try moving up the beach," he suggests. "Should probably try to find something to cover ourselves with before we do anything else." 

Stiles nods and takes another step, putting a lot more of his weight than he probably should on Derek. When he still doesn't fall, he eases up slightly, and together they're able to hobble across the beach.

Each step is easier than the last, and soon enough they come upon what looks like a torn sail - it's canvas, and there are holes in it, but it'll help cover them while they find some other clothing. "Here," Derek says, helping Stiles over to a boulder. "Hold it steady so I can cut it up." 

Stiles does as he's told, leaning against the bolder and holding the sail fast.

Derek slices off one really ragged end, then splits the remainder in half, trimming it a bit so the canvas doesn't drag. "There," he says, satisfied. "There's some rope around here, too; we can use that to tie this up. Maybe we can find a village or something that will let us buy some clothes." Derek had brought a pouch full of gold coins; hopefully one or two of those would buy them decent enough coverings and passage to the castle. 

Stiles nods, and is just about to try walking again when the murmur of voices catches his attention, and he hears a laugh that he'd recognise anywhere. He nearly flails himself to the ground again, and turns to grin at Derek. It's Lydia!

Derek's caught the voices as well, and by the enthusiastic grin and flailing, he guesses that this Lydia person is in the group. He wraps an arm around Stiles's waist, helping him balance as they walk forward, wrapped in their makeshift canvas clothes. "Hello?" he calls, hoping his voice will carry. "Is anyone there?"

"Did you hear that?" a feminine voice asks, and then a small group of humans rounds the corner - princess Lydia, the older man she had danced with on the ship, and a young man with curly hair. The princess looks surprised to see them, and before either of her companions can say anything, she's hastening over to Stiles' and Derek's side. "What on earth has happened? Are either of you hurt?"

Even if Derek hadn't already had a good idea who the young woman before him was, her clothing and jewelry would have immediately made her rank clear. "My lady," Derek says with a nod. "Forgive us, we've just come from a... shipwreck." Poseidon have mercy, it's a good thing Stiles can't speak. "I am Derek Hale, and this is my lord, Prince Stilinski. He recently lost his voice due to - an illness." 

Lydia runs an assessing gaze over Derek, before turning to peer curiously at Stiles. "A prince?" she asks, just as the curly-haired boy runs up to them.

"Your Highness!" he cries. "Come away, you don't need to concern yourself with these... commoners."

But Lydia resists him. "He says _he's_ a prince."

"This is Prince Stilinski," Derek says, gesturing to Stiles. "We've just come ashore after our ship went down in the middle of the night." 

"Prince Stilinski from where?" the young man asks, his eyes narrowed.

"From Beacon," Derek answers. "Far across the sea." 

"Never heard of it," Lydia says, searching Derek's face. "What happened to your vessel? The rest of your party? What was your reason for travelling?"

"We were traveling home from a trading journey when there was a storm," Derek says. "Our ship was capsized; I grabbed the Prince, as he was put into my charge by his father, and we were unable to make it to a - " What had Deaton called those things? " - a lifeboat before we were thrown into the water."

"So who are you?" Lydia asks. "You speak like a nobleman."

"I am the son of the general of Beacon's army," Derek says with a slight bow. "The prince and I were raised together, and I've been his guardian for many years now." Not a lie; Derek may be a few years older than Stiles, but they had grown up together and more often than not Derek had been the one watching Stiles's back. 

It takes a moment, but then Lydia nods, apparently convinced. "Very well," she says. "We will escort you back to the castle, and you can stay with us until you are both well enough to travel back to your own kingdom." She smiles, while the curly-haired young man splutters beside her. "My name is Lydia. Princess Lydia."

"Derek Hale," Derek says with another bow. "And this is Prince Stiles."

Lydia smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet both of you."

"And you, as well, my lady," Derek says. "We appreciate your hospitality." 

* * *

The older man, Chris, takes some persuading to allow Stiles and Derek to accompany them back to the castle, but in the end princess Lydia puts her foot down and he can't refuse her. As soon as they arrive they're bustled away by several servants and stripped of the sails they'd used to dress themselves, forced into tubs of scalding water and scrubbed until they're pink. After that they're dressed again, in clothes that are tight and form-fitting and, in Stiles' opinion, downright uncomfortable, and then left to their own devices until dinner. 

Stiles has been given chambers that fit his station, while Derek has been placed in an adjoining room; Stiles spends a few minutes exploring before knocking on Derek's door and opening it.

"Hey," Derek says with an uncomfortable smile. "Do you feel violated as well? I swear, my mother was fastidious and she _never_ scrubbed us that hard. Or that thoroughly." 

Stiles nods, his eyes wide, and returns the smile. He walks into the room, and tugs at the material around his legs, shooting Derek an exasperated look. He's never had any part of his body covered before, and now there's hardly any of it left bare.

Derek grimaces, picking at his own pants. "Yeah, I know," he says. "I was just getting ready to come get you; I'm going to get the mirror out and see if I can get Scott or your dad. You wanna stay here?"

Stiles' eyes widen in fear this time, and his mouth works soundlessly for a moment before he nods again and shuffles further into the room. He doesn't move to Derek's side, however, choosing instead to pull out the chair at the desk and fold himself into it.

Derek doesn't push the issue, instead digging out the small hand mirror he'd kept tucked into the pouch he'd brought with them to the surface. "Luckily they didn't look too closely in here," he mutters before running a thumb over one of the jewels inlaid in the frame. The mirror lights up, almost humming in his grip, and Derek waits anxiously to see if anyone is on the other side.

When the image swims into focus, the first thing Derek sees is the underside of Scott's face as he holds his own mirror in his hands, gesturing with it as he speaks. "Of course I tried to stop them, your Majesty," Scott is saying, "of course I advised against it! Derek did, too! But it's _Stiles_ ; if we couldn't stop him, isn't it better that we helped him to do it safely as best we could?"

"You call making a deal with the _sea witch_ safe?" the king thunders. "You say that this mirror of yours will allow you to communicate with them, but they've been gone for the better part of a day and we've heard _nothing_. How can you tell me that they're safe?"

"He can't," Derek interrupts, raising his voice slightly to be heard more clearly, "but I can."

Scott almost drops the mirror, and snatches it up to his face. "Oh thank Poseidon, Derek! Where are you? Are you with Stiles? Are you both okay?"

"We're both okay," Derek says, addressing the most important question first. "And yes, we're together. We're in the human kingdom that borders Beacon, Andalasia."

Scott opens his mouth to say more, but is cut off by a pointed clearing of the king's throat. "I, uh, I think he wants to talk to you," he says, and hands the mirror over without another word.

.

"Derek," the king growls. "Where is my son?"

On the other side of the room, Stiles begins shaking his head frantically.

Derek hesitates. "He's in the castle with me," he says. "He hasn't come back from being dressed yet. Humans wear a lot of clothes, apparently."

The king looks furious. "What in the ocean were you thinking?" he demands. " _How_ could you let this happen?"

"I was thinking almost exactly what Scott said," Derek answers, refusing to back down. "I didn't approve of his choice, but he sure as hell wasn't going to make another one, so if he was going to make a mistake then I was going to be right there with him to help him as much as I could."

"And how exactly are you helping him, Derek?"

"For one thing, Stiles doesn't know the culture, and it would be difficult for him to learn it and make himself understood since he is currently sans voice," Derek answers. "And I'm a familiar face, as well as an objective voice. I'm here to be Stiles's support, in whatever way he requires."

Something in the king's face softens, but only for an instant. "Derek, I swear by everything under this ocean, if he gets hurt--"

"You may hold me responsible," Derek interrupts. "Above all else, my concern is Stiles's safety. There's not much I can do if he fails to meet the witch's terms before the time is up, but you have my word that I will do all in my power to help him and keep him safe."

"Fine," the king snaps. "Contact me again as soon as Stiles is available."

"I will," Derek promises. "I'll get him to contact you later tonight, after the evening meal."

The king thrusts the mirror back at Scott, who takes the time to give Derek an apologetic look before cutting off the connection between the mirrors.

Derek sighs, then looks back at Stiles. "You owe me," he says. "I swear, if this all works out you will owe me _so much._ " 

Stiles nods, his expression earnest, and he jumps up to cross the room and give Derek a hug. He couldn't even begin to express his gratitude even if he had a voice, so this will have to do for now.

There's a sharp knock on Derek's door and they both spring apart just before it opens to reveal a smartly-dressed servant with some very judgey eyebrows. "Dinner is served."

Derek has no clue what could be causing the man's eyebrows to do that, but he nods. "Thank you," he says politely. "Will you lead us to it?" 

The servant inclines his head and turns sharply away from the door. "This way, my lords."

Derek and Stiles follow obediently, sticking close to each other and the servant as he weaves through the halls. Derek makes note of the route, and when the servant stops outside of the doors to the dining hall, he gives a grateful smile. "Thank you," he says again. "It's always a bit odd being in a new palace for the first few days." 

"Of course," the servant says with a slight bow. "Enjoy your meal, my lords."

He leaves then, and Stiles exchanges a look with Derek before opening the doors before them and slipping into the dining hall.

The dining hall is mostly empty except for the princess and the two men who'd been with her on the beach. "Our apologies," Derek says, following another servant who directs them to seats. "Your palace is very large, and our rooms are comfortable. Thank you."

Stiles nods as he sits beside Derek, and Lydia smiles. "You'll get used to it," she says. "I hope you'll come to like it. Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, we do, thank you," Derek says with another smile.

"So tell me about your kingdom, your lives there," Lydia says, directing her words at both Stiles and Derek, though she knows that Stiles can't answer. "You said it's far from here?"

"Very far," Derek confirms. "To the west; we trade all across the ocean, though in the past few generations our monarchs have become more... selective in our trading partners."

"Well, maybe your little sojourn here will prove valuable to both our kingdoms," Lydia says. Her gaze falls to Stiles, and she eyes him thoughtfully. "You say prince Stiles here is the son of your king. Is he the _crown_ prince?"

"He is," Derek confirms. "He has a brother from his father's second marriage, and while they are the same age, Prince Stiles's claim to the throne is stronger."

Lydia doesn't look away from Stiles, but she smiles. "Then I suppose we'd best make sure that you return to your father in full health."

There's a polite laugh around the table, and even Derek can't help but let slip a half-smile; he can see why Stiles was so taken with the princess, but he still doesn't approve of this whole plan. "I'm sure the king would most appreciate that," Derek says. "And we would, as well."

Lydia looks pleased, and finally takes her eyes off of Stiles. "I'm going out on a jaunt tomorrow; you'll both have to join me."

"It would be our pleasure," Derek says with barely a glance at Stiles; he knows that this is exactly what Stiles was hoping for - more time with Lydia to try to win her over.

Lydia's smile brightens. "Excellent."

* * *

The first week on land passes in a blur. Princess Lydia, it seems, has as much care for royal duties as Stiles does, so she spends almost every moment with her guests. They go out into the town to give money to the poor and find a tailor that can make Stiles and Derek some more clothes; they explore the castle grounds, which are huge and stretch from the edge of the ocean all the way out to a forest; they stay indoors sometimes and read or paint, and Lydia even teaches Stiles how to sew. Lydia talks to Derek most of the time, and Stiles worries that her interest is in him rather than Stiles himself, but then she catches her smiling at him, a small, secret smile that he's never seen her bestow upon anyone else, and he thinks that maybe he's worried about nothing. Derek is his voice while they're on land, and it's not like he ever wastes an opportunity to talk about how wonderful Stiles is.

Still, Stiles rarely gets any time alone with Lydia, which is why he's making the most of things now. They're out in the woods again, having a picnic in a pretty little clearing, and Derek is off with Isaac, trying to catch some game, leaving Stiles and Lydia to bask in the sun and engage in some admittedly one-sided small-talk. Stiles is lying on his side, watching Lydia who has her eyes closed and her face upturned to the sun, a soft smile playing about her lips. She's beautiful, and Stiles knows that now would be a perfect time to kiss her. They've been getting closer lately, after all, and he thinks she's interested. But something makes him hold back.

Lydia watches Stiles for several moments before she speaks. "You and your guard are strange," she muses. "Your kingdom must do things very differently from ours." 

Stiles thinks about that for a moment, before shrugging, a smile playing about his lips. He supposes she's right.

Lydia smiles as well. "I like you," she decides. "You're odd, but I like you." 

Stiles' smile softens and he reaches out to touch Lydia's hand. _I like you, too._

Lydia's smile widens just a bit, and she flips her hand over to take Stiles's in hers, squeezing lightly. "I hope we can remain friends, at least," she says. "It's nice, having someone around who listens very well." 

Stiles laughs, his thumb brushing over the back of Lydia's hand.

there's a moment, then, when Lydia thinks, _Maybe..._ She even goes so far as to lean in slightly, watching Stiles's face carefully for a clue as to how to proceed, whether her advance is welcome.

Of course, that's when Derek comes trotting back into the clearing, Isaac on his heels, and both of them carrying game bags noticeably heavier than when they'd left. Lydia doesn't spring from Stiles, though she does give him an apologetic look before disentangling their fingers. "What did you catch?" she asks, turning her attention to the returning hunters. 

"Rabbits, mostly," Isaac says cheerfully, dropping down onto the grass beside Lydia. "Derek's a natural. What did we miss?"

"Not much," Lydia says, smoothing a hand over her skirts. "Stiles and I had a pleasant chat." 

Derek, who's catching the daggers Stiles is glaring at him, bets that they missed a bit more than just a chat. "Well, Stiles will always find a way to talk," he says with a slight shake of his head. 

Stiles sticks his tongue out at him petulantly before turning a sunny smile on Lydia. Isaac, meanwhile, sends a bemused look between all three of them before sighing. "Well, Cook will be pleased with our haul, at least. Are we ready to start heading back?"

"I believe so," Lydia says. "The sun is nice, but I don't want to burn." 

Stiles looks like he agrees wholeheartedly, and he rises only to bend down and offer Lydia his hand.

Lydia accepts Stiles's help getting to her feet, and when she's standing, she offers Stiles a smile and a kiss to the cheek. "Such a gentleman," she says, obviously pleased. "Walk with me to the carriage?" 

Stiles' heart nearly stutters to a stop, but he manages to maintain enough of his wits to take Lydia's arm and do as she asks. He may or may not turn to throw an excited look at Derek over his shoulder, but after that his attention is all Lydia's.

* * *

Another week passes, and now Derek and Stiles are halfway through their allotted time as humans, though they're making good progress; even Derek has to admit that it's obvious Lydia is fond of Stiles, but whether that's _true love..._ Well, Derek made a promise to help Stiles get a kiss from Lydia, and regardless of his personal feelings, he's going to keep it. 

The time between dinner and supper one day finds Stiles and Lydia in the palace's library, with Lydia reading passages from her favorite books. "You know, I still don't know how you can't read common script," she muses as she searches for another book. "I thought most countries these days used common." 

Stiles shrugs with an innocent smile, and reaches out to stroke a finger down the spine of the book in Lydia's hand. It feels so different to all the waterlogged tomes he's handled over the years, but he's still fascinated; still wants to learn as much as he can. Maybe when this is all over and he's human for good, Lydia will be able to teach him to read them.

"Ovid's _Metamorphoses,_ " Lydia says thoughtfully. "It's been a while since I've read this; it's a collection of myths from ancient Greece." 

Stiles catches her eye and attempts to convey his interest with the use of his facial muscles alone.

He succeeds, and Lydia laughs lightly, heading back to the table they'd been using. "Very well," she says, allowing Stiles to pull out her chair and then push it in for her once she's sat down, "let us read about the ancient gods."

* * *

Derek watches in amusement, the mirror propped up on the table as Stiles paces. "I'm sorry your kiss got interrupted," he says, sharing a glance with Scott, "but I'm sure there'll be other chances. We still have half the time left." 

Stiles flails dramatically while Scott chuckles in the mirror. "It's not that bad!" he insists. "Derek even said that she likes you! It's gonna happen, dude, for sure."

"It will," Derek agrees. "I'm sorry for interrupting the first one, and I'm sorry that you got interrupted a second time." 

Stiles huffs and sits down heavily on the bed, his hands thrown into the air before slapping down onto his knees. They're called knees, apparently.

Scott gives Stiles a sympathetic look, that he switches to Derek after a moment. "In other news," he says, "your dad and _your_ mom are currently arguing about whether or not they should attack the sea witch."

" _What?_ " Derek says, attention successfully drawn away from Stiles. "Why?" 

"To try and get you both out of this deal," Scott says. "They want you back. But I don't think they're gonna do it."

"They don't have any grounds to," Derek protests. "Look, Stiles and I are both of age, and we went there of our own free will and we made the deals of our own free will. None of us particularly like the witch, but what happened was all perfectly legal. If they attack, _they'll_ be the ones in the wrong." 

Scott sighs. "They know that," he says. "That's why they won't actually do anything. But they both hate this so much; I think arguing about it makes them feel like they're not as helpless as they actually are."

Derek sighs. "The only one in any real danger is Stiles," he confesses. "I've fully paid for this temporary spell, but Stiles's voice was collateral. His spell was more permanent, so she wanted a higher price - the magic that apparently comes with true love's kiss. If he doesn't get that before the next new moon, then he joins her garden." 

Scott nods. "Then I guess we'd better up our game with Lydia."

* * *

"... And Erica finally proposed to Boyd because she got tired of waiting," Derek finishes, then raises an eyebrow. There's an odd look on his face, and Derek's not sure what put it on there, though it's been growing more obvious as Derek recounts everything Scott had told him the night before through the mirror while Stiles was in the library with Lydia. Right now, they're sitting in a window seat in Stiles's room, their knees pressed together, a sheaf of paper and a pen and inkwell nearby so he can write to Derek. "You okay? You've got an odd look on your face." 

Stiles hesitates, looking torn, before he grabs the pen and scratches a few words out onto a piece of paper. _Do you miss it?_

Derek shrugs. "A bit," he admits. "But I'll be back when this is all over." 

Stiles nods, looks down, and then reaches for the pen again. _It'll be weird without you around._

Derek smiles, placing one hand on Stiles's knee and squeezing lightly. "I'll leave the mirror," he promises, voice quiet. "You know I'd never really let you go, right?" 

Stiles huffs out a soft breath and gives Derek a tender smile. After a second, he nods.

"Good," Derek says, pleased and offering a fond smile of his own. 

* * *

It's that night that Lydia's maid, Marie, decides to approach the princess. "My lady," she begins as she starts carefully picking apart the hairstyle of the day, an elegant french braid wrap, "there have been some... rumors going around, about the two foreigners."

"Oh?" Lydia asks. "What kind of rumours?"

"Rumors that they are... intimate," Marie says delicately.

Lydia scoffs. "And where do these rumours come from?"

"The prince and his guard spend quite a lot of time together, and they exhibit a closeness that many married couples do," Marie explains, taking out the last hairpin and picking up the brush. "This afternoon they were seen in the prince's rooms, sitting on one of the window seats, and sitting too close together to be merely friends."

Amusement dances in Lydia's eyes. "And tell me, Marie, why do these whispers concern me?"

"Because the prince is clearly fond of you," Marie says, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And you tolerate him much better than you've tolerated any other princes you've met, as well as most princesses."

"He is sweet," Lydia concedes, smiling. "So I suppose that leaves me with something of a conundrum. Whatever shall I do?"

"Do you plan to propose an alliance marriage?" Marie asks. 

"I think so," Lydia says slowly. "I think it would be beneficial to both of us."

"I would speak with the guard, Derek," Marie suggests after a moment of silence. "Ask if the prince is available for marriage." 

Lydia's smile widens. "Y'know," she says thoughtfully, "I think you deserve a raise."

* * *

The next day finds Derek cornered by the kitchens, trapped by Lydia in a voluminous skirt that she's somehow managed to keep spotless. "Can I help you?" Derek asks warily, a plate of tarts balanced in one hand that he was on his way to bring Stiles. 

"I'd like to speak with you," Lydia tells him. "In private, if you're agreeable."

"Of course," Derek says. "Lead on, my lady." 

Lydia leads Derek to one of the palace's quieter corners, a little nook she likes to read in when she wants to be alone. Once they're seated, she wastes absolutely no time in beating about the bush. "I want to ask you about Stiles," she says. "And your relationship with him."

Derek blinks and frowns slightly. "What about it?" 

"There are some rumours running through the palace," Lydia confides. "People say you're sleeping together."

Derek chokes on air. "Sleeping together as in, what, sex?" he demands, barely remembering to keep his voice down. 

"I know there's something strange about the two of you," Lydia says mildly. "Are you lovers?"

When Derek laughs, it's slightly bitter. "No, we're not lovers," he tells her. "We never have been." 

Lydia searches his face for a long moment. "Interesting," she says at last. "You want to be, though."

Derek chuckles, humorless. "Is it that obvious? I've been in love with him for years, but he's never seen me - or men, period - in that way. As a matter of fact," he says, gesturing to Lydia, "I'm the complete opposite of his preferences." 

Lydia has the grace to look a little apologetic, like it's her fault that Stiles is interested in her over Derek. "I imagine that you'll always be a big part of his life," she offers. "It's clear that you care about him very much, and that he cares about you too, although perhaps not in the way that you want. Which is why I want to ask you a... delicate question."

"Considering what we've just been talking about, I'd hazard a guess I already know what you're going to ask," Derek says. "But ask away." 

"I want to marry him," Lydia says bluntly. "It may prove to be a love match, it may not, but I am fond of him and it would be beneficial to both of our kingdoms." Her expression softens as she considers Derek. "You could stay with him, of course, if that is what you want."

Derek shakes his head. "Regardless of what happens, I must return to Beacon. And I would approve of a love match, but if you are asking for a marriage of alliance, I fear that it would become much more complicated than you could imagine." 

That makes Lydia hesitate. "I see," she says. "In your expert opinion, would Stiles be happier at home than he would here with me?"

"If you truly loved him, he would be happy," Derek says carefully. "If not, then I believe that he would be better off at home." Not an unfair assumption; Derek had a sinking feeling that humans would not treat a merman kindly if he had no way to escape to the sea. 

"I could certainly learn to love him," Lydia says thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should get to know each other better before I make my proposal." She smiles. "A little courting never hurt anyone."

"No, it never did," Derek agrees. "I would not waste any time in doing so." They only had a week and a half left before the deadline; for Stiles's sake, Derek hopes Lydia comes to love him soon.

* * *

Lydia takes Derek's advice, and takes to courting Stiles in earnest. Stiles, of course, is ecstatic over this development, and as the days wear on, Derek becomes more optimistic that things are going to work out in Stiles's favor. Lydia genuinely cares for Stiles, and while Derek's still skeptical that love can come so quickly, maybe the beginnings of love will count enough to fulfill Jennifer's payment. Stiles is frustrated that there hasn't been a kiss yet, and while Derek doesn't particularly enjoy hearing about Stiles's frustration, he's still worried about what could happen if they get caught on land when their spells expire.

Derek's musings are interrupted the night before their last day by Stiles knocking on the door that separates their quarters. "Come in," he calls, looking up from the map he'd been mindlessly staring at. 

Stiles enters the room with a cautious smile and holds up the piece of paper in his hands. _So, tomorrow's our last day together, whatever happens._

"It is," Derek agrees, his own smile a bit sad. "How are you doing?"

Stiles makes a 'meh' kind of face and crosses over to the desk so that he can write another note. _A little sad, nervous. But I really think she's going to kiss me tomorrow._

"Yeah? I hope so, since tomorrow's the last day; you'll change one way or another by sundown."

Stiles frowns and scribbles some more. _It'll work out_ , he writes, and then hesitates before adding, _Are you ready to go back home?_

"I think so," Derek says. "It's... tiring, having to support my own weight all of the time, and legs are very inefficient. And it will be nice to see my family again."

Stiles nods, but his smile fades after a moment, leaving him looking unsure.

Derek notices the new look, and he looks at Stiles questioningly. "What's wrong?"

_I'm just really gonna miss you._

Derek's answering smile is sad as he says, "I'm going to miss you, too. But if things work out with Lydia, I'll leave the mirror here, and I'll come visit. I'm sure Scott will, too."

Stiles hesitates, considering asking what will happen if things with Lydia don't work out, but he knows the answer. Where he'll end up, he won't have time for visitors or pen pals or anything. Instead, he writes, _What did Jennifer want from you? For the amulet?_

Somehow Derek's surprised by the question. Still, it's not like he's going to tell Stiles to forget about it, not if this is going to be one of the last times they talk. "She wanted to be allowed to watch what happened up here more closely than usual," he says, the words accompanied by a self-deprecating chuckle. "It cost me nothing more than my dignity."

Stiles' eyes widen, and his lips part like he wants to say something but forgets until the last second that he can't. Instead, he takes a step forward, his gaze beseeching and his expression more open than it has been since they came here.

Derek swallows hard, his own expression pleading. "Don't make me say it, Stiles."

Stiles' breath catches and he reaches out to snag Derek's hand on impulse. He _can't_ mean... Can he?

" _Stiles,_ " Derek says, pained and helpless, his gaze locked on Stiles's hand in his. "Please, I - "

A touch to Derek's jaw has him looking up again, and then Stiles is _lost_. There's so much in those eyes, those stunning eyes, and despite everything he's been through in the past four weeks, everything his fought for, he finds himself swaying closer to Derek, leaning in.

Derek leans in a little as well, eyes sliding closed, thinking, _Maybe..._

But then he pulls away, tugging his hand out of Stiles's as he steps back, putting distance between them in more ways than one. "What about Lydia?" he asks, has to ask, because he can't take this from Stiles, can't mess up something that could be True Love. Because no matter how much he wants it to be him, how much he wants to be Stiles's soulmate, he can't ignore the fact that Stiles has _never_ shown interest of the romantic sort in anyone but Lydia until now - and Lydia is the complete opposite of him: Human, female, petite where Derek is broad... _This isn't one of Mother's stories,_ Derek has to remind himself. _He doesn't fall in love with you just because he realized you were in love with him._

Stiles' mouth is open again, his eyes wide and round with pain, and for a second it looks as though he's going to chase after Derek, press himself into his arms and kiss him - but then he's stepping back too, shaking his head, mouthing _I'm sorry_ and _I can't_ , and then he's gone.

He didn't even stop to pick up his papers.

* * *

Derek uses the mirror the next morning to ask Scott to be at the beach that afternoon; he can almost feel the magic wearing off, and knows that their time is almost up. Lydia sent a servant with a request for them to accompany her on a walk on the beach after the noon meal, and Derek knows Stiles accepted. Derek's already planning on hanging back as far as he can; Stiles hasn't so much as looked in his direction since the night before, and Derek's tried to keep himself busy to avoid thinking about what happened.

The evening meal is delicious, Derek's sure, but he doesn't taste any of it; he only eats to maintain appearances, though if the curious glances he and Stiles receive from Isaac and Chris are anything to go by, neither he nor Stiles are doing a very good job of it. No one says anything, though, and soon enough the three of them depart for their outing.

Lydia waits until they're well away from the palace before she says anything to Stiles; they're on the beach, as a matter of fact, and nearing the spot where she first found Stiles and Derek before Lydia comments, "There seems to be tension between you and Derek; has something happened?"

Stiles glances back at Derek, who has fallen behind quite a bit, before returning his attention to Lydia. He shakes his head, smiling softly.

"You're sure?" Lydia presses, worried; she's become fond of Derek as well, and the distance between the two this morning concerned her. 

Stiles nods, and makes himself take Lydia's hand. He's banked too much on this to be wrong now. It just isn't an option.

Lydia looks at their joined hands for a moment before she looks at Stiles questioningly. "Stiles?"

Stiles squeezes her hand and takes a tentative step closer, his gaze drawn down to her mouth before he meets her eyes once more.

Lydia's breath catches; she knows what's going through Stiles's mind, and honestly, she's curious. She's very fond of the foreign prince, and she's already made up her mind to ask for a marriage, regardless of whether or not this is a love match. She nods in answer to an unasked question, shifting closer in anticipation. 

Stiles mirrors her movements until there's only a breath between them, and then he closes even that distance, and he kisses her.

It's a nice kiss - certainly much better and more promising than those given to Lydia by other suitors, but there's nothing... overwhelmingly special about it. Still, that doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy it, and she gives as good as she gets. On Stiles' part, it's his first kiss, so it's pretty amazing - but still, if this is what true love feels like, it's nothing like he expected. There are no fireworks, no bone-deep assurance that this is _right_ , nothing except a pleasant pressure on his mouth and the thrill that he's kissing _someone_. He's not certain it matters that it's Lydia.

He doesn't have any time to follow that train of thought, though, because just as they break apart the sun dips below the horizon, and then everything goes to shit.

Derek tries to shout, to warn Stiles - but his warning comes out as a pained shout as he falls to the ground; he has enough presence of mind to rip the clothes off of the lower half of his body before the pain completely overwhelms him. 

When everything is said and done, Lydia is left standing on the beach with two stranded mermen. "What the _hell?_ " she demands, indulging in a curse just the once. "What is going on here?" 

"Oh my God," Stiles breaths, his tail flapping uselessly against the wet sand. "It didn't work. You're not my true love."

"True love? What on Earth - "

Derek, who's managed to drag himself over by now, explains, "He made a deal with the sea witch - become human for a month in order to try to woo you. If your kiss was true love, he'd stay human." He glances out towards the sea, and is relieved to see Scott approaching the shore. "Stiles, Scott's here." 

Stiles grabs Derek's arm, but looks at Lydia. "We have to go," he says. "I'm so sorry, Lydia, for everything. I wish there was time to explain but we have to get back into the sea."

"Wait! You can't honestly expect me to - "

Derek fishes the enchanted mirror from his pouch. "Here," he says. "Run your thumb over the ruby on the left side of the frame, and we can speak through this mirror's twin. But Stiles is right, we need to go." 

Stiles looks out to sea, and sees Scott not far from the shoreline, waving his arms. "Derek!" he shouts. "Stiles, come on!"

Stiles turns back to Derek, considers their position on the beach. They're not that far from the water, but it doesn't look like it was easy for Derek to pull himself to Stiles' side. "Help us," he begs of Lydia. "Please."

Lydia shakes her head - not a negative, but in an 'I can't believe this is happening' way. "One moment," she says, glancing around to make sure they're alone before she yanks her dress off, thanking Marie for choosing a simple one for this outing. She lays the dress and mirror on a nearby piece of driftwood before she comes up behind Derek. "You're heavier, so you first," she says, before squatting down to wrap her arms around his torso and heave. She gets Derek to where he can roll himself further into the surf, then returns to Stiles, doing the same for him. "I will be using that mirror," she informs them, dusting sand off of herself. 

"Please do," Stiles tells her, nodding. "I'll explain everything, I swear."

"I'll hold you to that," Lydia says. She glances over at where Derek and this Scott person are waiting, their expressions anxious, and then offers Stiles a slight smile. "I suppose you need to be going." 

"Yeah," Stiles says. "Thanks, Lydia."

It isn't until they're halfway back to Beacon that he realises he'll never see Lydia, or anyone, again.

* * *

It takes them almost half the night to make the return trip to Beacon, and when they enter the outskirts, they find a welcoming party waiting for them - including the king and the sea witch. Derek stays close to Stiles as they approach. "I'm sorry things didn't work out," he says quietly.

Stiles lets out a shaky breath. "Me too," he says, "but I made a deal and I have to stick to it." He hesitates a few feet from his father, but when the king opens his arms he swims straight into them without thought. "I missed you, Dad."

"I missed you, too," the king says, hugging Stiles tight. "And I think I'm going to keep missing you."

Stiles winces as he pulls out of the embrace. "I'm so sorry."

The king gives him a sad smile. "There's no time for that," he says. "Jennifer is here to make sure that you keep your end of the bargain."

Jennifer, who's drifted closer, nods. "I will give you until sunrise to say goodbye," she says after a moment of studying the prince and his father. "Any later than sunrise, and I will consider the deal broken."

"Thank you," Stiles says, surprised and beyond grateful. "I won't be late."

Jennifer nods. "I will be at the palace gates at sunrise," she announces. "See you then." 

Stiles watches her swim away, and then turns to his dad and his friends. "I don't suppose we could go home?"

"We can go home," Derek says, letting himself wrap an arm around Stiles's shoulders. 

* * *

Derek hates himself for it, but when Jennifer arrives to take Stiles away, Derek hides on the other end of the castle. He's already said his goodbyes, and he can't bring himself to actually watch Stiles leave. 

Over the next two days, the kingdom is miserable. Everyone is subdued, and no one talks of Stiles anywhere except behind closed doors, and certainly not where the king could hear. The only semi-bright spot is that Lydia kept her promise to use the mirror, and Derek's been using talking to her as an excuse to avoid anyone and everyone.

"I'm sorry," he says, when he realizes Lydia's been talking while he's been thinking. "What did you say?" 

"I _said_ ," Lydia huffs, with an impatient flick of her hair, "what are we going to do about Stiles?"

Derek frowns. "What do you mean? His deal's done, he couldn't pay, end of story." 

"Was there a time limit on when he had to pay the deal by?" Lydia asks. "Or can he pay anytime?"

Derek frowns, thinking. "In order to stay human he needed true love's kiss before the spell expired," he says.

"But this isn't about staying human anymore," Lydia says. "He still has a debt to the witch, so he just has to pay it."

Derek thinks over her words for a moment. "I don't know... I only knew the terms of my contract, so I don't know the full terms of Stiles's." 

"Could you _ask_ the witch?" Lydia asks, in a tone that suggests that Derek is being particularly obtuse.

"I... don't know," Derek admits. "I don't think anyone's ever tried. Once someone is in her garden, then usually they're considered, well, lost."

Lydia scowls at him through the mirror. "Well, maybe I underestimated you if you're not willing to fight for him."

Derek sighs. "You don't know the sea witch - I very much doubt that she'd let me look at Stiles's contract or do much besides visit Stiles," he explains. "She likes to play her cards close to her chest. And now she has the Crown Prince in her garden; that's leverage I doubt she's going to want to give up."

Lydia narrows her eyes. "But she'll let you visit him?"

"Yes," Derek answers. "It's not like he's been turned to stone, or fried to ash. He's still _alive_ , just... transfigured."

"So why haven't you been to see him before now?"

Derek sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "Because when it comes to facing reality, sometimes I'm a coward. Besides, even if your idea was possible, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't work; Stiles doesn't love me as anything other than a brother." 

Lydia doesn't look convinced, but she doesn't argue with him. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't try. _Everyone_ should try. Maybe 'true love' doesn't have to mean soulmates; maybe it could be his father, or his brother, or someone who cares about him _more than his own life._ "

Derek's quiet for several moments before he sighs. "I'll try," he says. "I'll go see the witch, ask if I can see Stiles's contract." 

"Or you could just visit and kiss him," Lydia says. "See what happens."

"I don't think I'd ever be brave enough to do that," Derek says with a shake of his head. 

"What have you got to lose?" Lydia asks. "If it doesn't work then Stiles stays in the witch's garden, which he would have anyway, and if it does then you've just found your true love."

"And if I'm not his?" Derek asks. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I want Stiles back, more than anything. But what if I'm not his true love?" 

"Then the kiss won't work," Lydia says, frowning in thought. "I'm fairly certain."

Derek can't help but smile just a little fondly. "Well, won't know until we try. Thank you, Lydia." 

Lydia nods. "For what it's worth," she says, "I really think it'll work."

Derek's not so sure, but he can't leave Stiles to rot in Jennifer's garden. 

* * *

That night, Derek sneaks out of the palace. It takes some time, dodging patrols and wandering seafolk, but eventually Derek's clear. He takes off for the witch's cave, slowing as he approaches. Everything is eerily quiet here, and as Derek looks out over the garden, trepidation rises. There's dozens of former merfolk here, and while they don't all look exactly the same, they all look very similar. How is he supposed to find Stiles in this crowd? 

Derek gives himself a shake, and then swims forward, determined. He has to find Stiles and kiss him before Jennifer realizes he's here; she might try to stop him if she realizes what he's doing. 

Derek finds Stiles alone, separated from the rest of the creatures by virtue of being placed on a pedestal. Derek approaches cautiously, keeping one ear out as he whispers, "Stiles?" 

The creature turns to peer up at him, and although there's barely anything about it that's recognisable as Stiles, the pain in its eyes is unmistakable. It clearly knows Derek, because it sways closer to him like it's soaking up his warmth, and maybe it is. It's certainly very cold down here, and in Stiles' current position, very lonely.

Derek's heart breaks, and he blinks rapidly. "Oh, gods, Stiles," he whispers, drifting closer. "I'm so sorry. I'm going to try something; Lydia thinks it will work, but... we'll see. Okay?" 

Stiles can do nothing but stare at him, but there's a plea in his eyes all the same.

Derek takes a deep breath; it's now or never. "Please don't hate me for this," he begs before he leans forward to place a kiss to the top of Stiles's head, hoping that, despite everything, it will work. 

At first, nothing happens - but then there's a strange fizzing sound and a flash of light, and the podium crashes to the floor, sending the strange creatures in the immediate vicinity skittering out of the way. A moment later, and Stiles is in Derek's arms.

The other's eyes are closed, and for a moment Derek's terrified that it hasn't actually worked, but then he realizes that Stiles is breathing, and he lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Stiles?" 

"Derek," Stiles breathes, and then there are strong hands gripping Derek's arms. "Is this real?"

"It is," Derek says, relieved. "It worked; you're back." 

Stiles nearly chokes on his own relief. "H-- how?"

"True love's kiss," Derek says. "It paid your debt." 

Stiles' eyes widen. "And _you_..?"

Derek shrugs. "Lydia thought it would work; she convinced me to come try." 

Stiles nods, his jaw set, and pulls out of Derek's arms. "Can we get out of here?"

Derek watches Stiles with a worried expression, but he nods. "She'll know the debt's been paid; we can go." 

"Then what are we waiting for?" Stiles turns abruptly and starts to swim away, leaving Derek to follow or be left behind.

* * *

The last Derek sees of Stiles, he's reuniting with his dad and Scott; he doesn't spare a glance for Derek, who finally gets the hint. He was right; he's not Stiles's true love. 

Scott sees the expression on Derek's face right before the older man leaves the great hall, and he resolves to keep an eye on the situation; he really hopes it doesn't turn out the way he fears it will. 

It does, and a week later Scott corners Stiles. "Okay, spill," he demands. "What's going on with you and Derek?" 

"Nothing," Stiles says, avoiding Scott's gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You sure? Because you've been avoiding him ever since you came back," Scott says, raising an eyebrow. 

Stiles sighs. "Well, he hasn't exactly been trying to break down the door, has he?"

" _Stiles_ ," Scott sighs. "Look, why have you been avoiding him?"

"Because, apparently, he's my true love!" Stiles cries. "He _kissed me_ , Scott, and I turned back into a merman!"

"Isn't that a good thing?" Scott demands. "So you love him, big deal! It's not like your father's going to disapprove of you choosing Derek!"

"He might!" Stiles insists. "And I didn't say that I loved him."

Scott gives Stiles an unimpressed look. "No, he wouldn't, and I know that you didn't, but come on. Derek wouldn't be your true love if you didn't love him."

"Scott, just drop it, please."

"No, I'm not going to drop it," Scott snaps. "The both of you are miserable, and I'm sick of it! _Why are you avoiding him?_ " 

"Because I can't!" Stiles shouts. "I can't love him, okay? I just can't. I'm a prince, Scott, I'm the crown prince of Beacon and there are expectations that I have to meet, I have to think about our people! I have to think about my dad! I can't throw everything our family has ever worked for away because I decided to fall in love with a _merman_."

"As opposed to what, a jellyfish?" Scott asks, incredulous. 

"I'm gonna be the king, Scott! A king needs an heir, which means he needs a _queen_!"

"Oh, for the love of - " Scott actually reaches over to smack Stiles in the back of the head. "You're not the only prince, Stiles! And a king can have an heir that isn't actually his by blood, or if you're so worried about that, then you can get someone to carry a baby for you! There are plenty of women out there who would love to carry a royal heir."

Stiles shakes his head. "It's not that easy, Scott. It can't be. It's not even just about that; Derek... he never showed any interest in me before we made the deal. And anything that I feel for him, I buried a long time ago. I can't dredge all of that back up, I don't know if I even want to. He's my _best friend_."

Scott sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stiles. Derek is head over tail in love with you," he says. "Has been for years. The reason he hasn't shown any interest is because _you_ haven't; the only times you ever talked about liking anyone, or finding anyone attractive, you've talked about women. And you only ever treated him as your friend, so even if you had said something about finding men attractive, he values your friendship enough that he didn't want to potentially ruin it."

Stiles screws his eyes shut, like Scott's words are physically hurting him. "I'm scared," he admits quietly. "I don't want to lose him."

"You're going to lose him if you keep avoiding him," Scott says bluntly. He doesn't like saying it like this, but it's the truth. "You need to talk to him, Stiles."

Stiles sighs heavily. "I know," he says. "I know."

"Then go talk to him," Scott repeats. "Whatever happens, at least you'll know."

"Okay," Stiles says, and he manages a shaky smile. "Thanks, man."

* * *

While Scott is confronting Stiles, Derek is whining at Lydia. Yes, he is a full-grown merman, and he is currently whining. He doesn't particularly care, though. "I did what you asked, and it worked," he says, running one hand through his hair, "but Stiles has been avoiding me ever since."

"Why?" Lydia asks. "Have you tried talking to him?"

"Once, the day after," Derek says. "He caught sight of me and went in the opposite direction." 

"Well, it had only been a day," Lydia reasons. "Maybe he just needed some time to think."

Derek shrugs. "I don't know. I mean, yeah, it's obviously a huge thing that now he knows for certain that he's my true love, but... I thought we were closer than that. He won't even talk to me about it."

"And why do you think that is?" Lydia asks.

Derek shrugs again. "He hates me? He's embarrassed? How should I know, if he won't talk to me?"

"Or maybe," Lydia says, "he had no idea how you felt - or how _he_ felt - and now he's freaking out."

Derek frowns. "You think that could be it?" he asks, not daring to get his hopes up.

Lydia's expression softens. "Derek, anyone can see that he cares about you."

"Of course he does; we're friends," Derek says. "That doesn't mean he's in love with me."

"No," a shaky voice says from behind Derek, and Lydia smiles when Stiles drifts into view, "it does. It does mean that."

Derek spins so fast that he nearly knocks the mirror off of its stand; he stares, wide-eyed, at Stiles. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough," Stiles says, trying for a tentative smile. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much."

Derek swallows, nods. "I've noticed." He winces at the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry, I mean - It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Stiles says, his gaze flickering to the mirror. "Lydia, could you--"

"Already gone," Lydia says, smiling, and a moment later the surface of the mirror shimmers, and then all they can see in it is their own reflections.

Stiles wets his lips and drifts a little closer to Derek. "Can we talk?"

Derek nods cautiously, nerves spiking. "Sure."

"I'm sorry," Stiles says again. "I shouldn't have taken off like that, after we got back to the palace. I didn't even say thank you."

Derek shrugs. "You just got turned back into yourself after spending a day as one of those little creatures. I don't blame you for wanting some time to yourself."

Stiles' smile is sad. "Thank you for trying to make excuses for me, but that's not why, and we both know it."

"I don't know," Derek says, the frustration of the past week surfacing abruptly. "I _think_ I know, but I don't actually know. Why have you been avoiding me?"

"Because I've been scared," Stiles answers softly. "I should have been stuck in Jennifer's garden forever, but I'm not, and that's because of you. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that you were my true love. I didn't dare to."

"Scared? Of what?" Derek asks, frowning.

"Of you," Stiles confesses. "Of how I feel about you."

Derek's breath catches in his chest. "How you feel about me?" 

"I love you," Stiles whispers. "I'm in love with you. And I hope that's okay, 'cause if it's not I don't think I can ever show my face outside of the palace again."

"You love me?" Derek repeats, sounding like an echo and hardly daring to believe his ears. 

"Have for a while, I think. I just didn't let myself feel it until now."

"Why not?"

Stiles' lips part, meet, part again. "Because I was scared to lose you."

Derek shakes his head. "Even if I didn't love you back, you wouldn't have lost me." 

Stiles nods, letting that sink in. "Does that mean that you do?"

"Love you? Of course I do," Derek says. "I've been in love with you for years, I just never thought - " 

Stiles is in his space suddenly, not touching him but close enough that he could probably count Stiles' eyelashes if he wanted to. "There's still some things I'm not sure about yet," he says. "Scott said my dad wouldn't mind, but you're a guy, and I'm the _heir_ , and I don't know what that means, but--" He takes a breath. "But I love you, and I don't want to spend another minute without you."

Derek reaches out to take Stiles's hand because he can't not, he _needs_ to be touching Stiles now like he needs to breathe. "I don't, either," he admits. "I don't know what it'll all mean, but I want to try." 

"Me too," Stiles promises, a soft smile quirking his lips. "Besides, not even my dad can stand in the way of true love, right?"

Derek laughs. "I think he'd have a hard time of it," he agrees. 

Stiles laughs with him, bright and happy, and he brings his free hand up to touch Derek's face. "Come here," he breathes, and then they're kissing.

Derek pours everything in the kiss, pulling Stiles even closer to himself and wrapping one arm around the other's waist. It's several heartbeats before they pull back, but Derek doesn't let Stiles go too far. "That was better than I imagined," he murmurs.

"Oh yeah?" Stiles asks, looping his arms around Derek's neck so that they can kiss again. "What else have you been imagining?"

"Lots of things," Derek murmurs, starting to kiss his way down Stiles's jaw. "I've had a lot of time to think over the past couple of years."

"Fuck," Stiles sighs, letting his head fall back. "Keep talkin'."

Derek smirks. "You sure? Because anyone could walk by right now, and I think we should probably go tell Scott and our parents before the gossip does."

"Ugh!" Stiles pushes Derek away and backs up a little himself. "You suck."

Derek grins, pulling Stiles in for another kiss. "But you love me," he says, still marveling in the fact that those words are true.

"Yeah," Stiles murmurs, his smile soft against Derek's lips. "I really do."

* * *

The king eyes the two men before him; it takes all he has not to let the grin threading to break loose out. "So," he says, crossing his arms over his chest and raising one eyebrow. "Do you two have something to tell me?" 

"We do," Stiles says, bracing himself. He's been rehearsing what he's going to say with Derek ever since they decided to tell the king, but now all words desert him, and he finds himself going off script. "Father, Derek and I are in love. And I'm pretty sure he's my true love so please don't be mad or try to keep us apart because that probably won't make any difference, and I know that as the crown prince I'm going to rule Beacon one day and I'll need an heir, but we've thought about that and surrogacy is totally a thing, okay? The baby would still be legitimate and the people will get over the fact that I won't have a queen, right?" He stalls. "Right?"

Stilinski sighs, burying his face in one hand and pinching the bridge of his nose; he holds that pose until Melissa reaches over and slaps him in the back of the head, scolding, "Knock it off; you're scaring them. And quit trying to hide that grin!" 

The king gives up on any pretense then, bursting out laughing and swimming forward to pull his son into a hug. "Son, the whole damn kingdom has seen that you and Derek are meant for each other for years now," he tells the young prince. "No one gives an eel's tail about the fact that you two are men, and if you want children of your own, I know that Cora and Erica at least would not be opposed to carrying one." 

Stiles pulls back to gape at his father. "Are you serious?" he demands. "You _knew_?"

"Neither of you were very subtle," Melissa interjects; the king nods in agreement. 

"Subtle enough that _we_ didn't notice," Stiles grumbles, but he's smiling when he reaches out to take Derek's hand.

Derek smiles as well as the other adults laugh. "We were pretty oblivious," Derek agrees before he turns to the king. "Does this mean we have your blessing?"

Stilinski smiles, expression fond. "Of course you do."

"You have mine as well," Talia Hale says smoothly as she glides into the room. "Though you didn't think to ask for it."

Derek glances away guiltily before he answers, "We were going to see you next."

Derek glances away guiltily before he answers, "We were going to see you next."

Talia laughs, drifting over to pull her son into a hug. "I'm delighted for you," she says. "It's been a long time coming, and I know you'll be very happy together."

Derek returns the hug readily. "Thank you," he says, smiling. "I hope we will."

Talia hugs Stiles next, and he looks surprised but pleased, before she pulls back and throws a wink at the king. "You think Beacon can handle having both of them on the throne?"

The king laughs. "I think Beacon will have its best years yet."


End file.
